That Scary Jack O' Lantern
by darkestharmony
Summary: Dexter helps Astor get over her fear of the carved pumpkin on the table. COMPLETE.


Since I'm a sucker for Dexter/Astor bonding, I wrote this. Spoilers for the end of season three.

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Glowing orange eyes shone in the dark room, causing Astor to shudder uncontrollably next to Dexter. He smiled down at her and she looked up, uncertain, then smiled up at him. He gently pushed her, one firm hand on her back, but she gave him a look that said 'I'm not going over there', the usual defiant look she had on her face.

"Astor," Dexter said. "I read somewhere that the only way to get over a fear is to face it head on, face to face, get up in its face and trash talk it."

"That's an urban myth," Astor grumbled, staring down at her feet. She didn't want to stare at that pumpkin, with its large, glowing orange eyes staring at her with a wide, carved smile. It was hideous and nightmare inducing. No way in hell was she going to face it head on.

Dexter chuckled and shook his head, crouching down to her level. He held her gently by the shoulders and Astor looked up to look him in the eyes. Dexter just raised an eyebrow, and Astor shook her head. She wouldn't go near that thing, no ifs ands or buts about it.

"It won't hurt you," Dexter promised. "And I swear, if it does, I will personally arrest it and make sure it goes to jail for a very, very long time."

"You don't have handcuffs," Astor stated, but she reluctantly started to walk closer to the carved pumpkin. It was the day before Halloween, and the house was full of Halloween decorations much scarier than a carved pumpkin, yet Astor was afraid of a fruit. A harmless, orange, somewhat smelly fruit.

"Can't the lights be on?" Astor whined, only a few feet away from the table that held the pumpkin. Dexter shook his head.

"Nope, it's got to be like this."

"Fine," Astor said, then straightened her posture and strode confidently over to the pumpkin. She stood directly in front of it, though Dexter couldn't tell if her eyes were closed.

"Open your eyes," Dexter said. Astor turned around to face him.

"They are," Astor said. Dexter just nodded, a half-smile on his face.

"You're not a real Halloween decoration!" Astor said to the pumpkin. "You're not nearly as scary as that skeleton on the door. How dare you call yourself a Halloween decoration! I hate you!"

"Whoa, there," Dexter said, walking up beside her and looking down at the pumpkin. "I think you gave it a good slap to the face - figuratively speaking." Astor nodded, a proud smile on her face. She wasn't over her fear, but she wasn't as scared of the pumpkin anymore. It was just a stupid fruit, something that couldn't harm her.

"Why are the lights off?" Rita asked, causing Astor to jump slightly when she walked through the door with Cody at her side. They were both carrying bags of groceries, though Rita had their baby in her arms as well. Light flooded the room as Cody flipped the light switch, setting the bags on the counter.

"Oh, Astor!" Rita said, adjusting the baby in her arms. She bent down to kiss her eldest daughter on the forehead, a smile on her face. "You got over your fear of Jack o' Lanterns?" Astor nodded, looking up at Dexter.

"Dexter helped me," she said, then ran off to join Cody, who had a deck of cards in his hands. It was Sunday, which meant that it was Go Fish Night.

Rita looked at Dexter, nothing but adoration in her eyes. She gave him a peck on the cheek, smiling gratefully up at him.

"Thank you," Rita said. Dexter just shrugged and took the baby out of her arms.

"No problem," Dexter told her. Rita looked apologetically at Dexter when he noticed that his child smelled faintly of poop.

"Sorry," Rita said. Her husband smiled at her, kissed her forehead, and went into the back room to change the diaper. Rita leaned against the counter, staring at the carved pumpkin with a bemused look on her exhausted face.

"Never again will you cause my daughter sleepless nights," she said, leaning over and blowing out the two candles inside of the pumpkin.


End file.
